


Absence of Light

by amerasu1013 (amerasu_1013)



Series: Light in the Dark [1]
Category: The Purge: Anarchy (2014)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-26 17:26:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5013496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amerasu_1013/pseuds/amerasu1013
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The aftermath of Purge Night: healing.</p><p> </p><p>  <em>Cali smiles at him, bright like the sun, and slowly fills the empty space inside him, melts the heart that he thought had turned to stone long ago. The place in his heart, the one where his son lives on, is still painful, nothing but sharp edges and piercing spines, but Cali soothes it.</em></p>
            </blockquote>





	Absence of Light

**Author's Note:**

> I recently watched "The Purge: Anarchy" and... it's been a very long time since a movie kicked me in the heart like this one. Frank Grillo was badass and amazing and devastatingly hot (and so angsty, mmmh), but the whole movie and the idea and the world created in it was just... yeah. A punch in the gut. I really, really, REALLY loved this movie and I got so many FEELS from watching it, therefore I wrote this fic, to at least get some of them out. :D
> 
> Additionally: While I am aware (the internet, so helpful :P) that Frank Grillo's character in the 3. Purge movie will apparently be called "Leo Barnes" (who - headcanon: is the child of Bucky Barnes and Brock Rumlow, but nevermiiiind, wrong fandom), in "Anarchy" he doesn't have a name. I liked the whole "nameless hero" angle and therefore decided to stick with that. So, while the tags upstairs mention his name, in this fic I do not call him Leo. He has no name in this fic. I have however been assured that it's still easily readable and not confusing to call him "he" all the time. :)
> 
> And now the rest of the usual notes:  
> 1\. The characters and the movie do not belong to me, this is a work of fiction and I don't own anythiiiing...  
> 2\. Betaed, as usual, by the wonderful [zilldk](http://archiveofourown.org/users/zilldk). Many thanks to you, darling!!!  
> 3\. The title comes from this quote: “In the absence of light, only darkness is left.” ― Reyna Pryde (Bound by Sacrifice)

He floats through darkness, a vast space filled with pain and blood and death. They beckon for him, try to pull him down into the abyss. His boy, _his boy_ reaches for him and he wants to follow, go to where his son is, let go of the world and sink down, down…

He doesn’t. Something holds him back. Slender fingers between his, a warm, delicate palm soft against his rougher, more calloused one. A gentle touch that belies the strength in that grip, pulling him back to the surface, away from the blood-red darkness…

The girl. Cali.

He follows her back.

When he opens his eyes she smiles at him. He squeezes her hand and an answering smile tugs at his mouth.

 

***

 

The hospital feels familiar, even if he’s never been in this particular one before. They’re all the same, nurses with tired faces, doctors with stress on their brow, barely enough time to ask him how he’s feeling before the next patient demands attention. The food is the same as well: bland, tasteless, colorless mush and toxic-looking Jell-O. There’s no TV in his room, no window, nothing to offer distraction from the pain of his healing wounds.

Even they feel familiar. He’s had his fair share of wounds in his life, knife cuts, bruises and scrapes and yes, bullet wounds. More scars to add to the abstract painting of his body, asymmetric shapes and lines, raised, red circles on his stomach and chest. That fine white line there on his thigh, a souvenir from his first tour overseas. A jagged, circular scar on his chest from that time he almost bled out, lying in warm sand, looking up at the sky and thinking it looked just the same as back home.

And now more wounds turning into scars, a few more souvenirs to add to his collection. Memories of things he would rather forget… things he _can’t_ forget, _mustn’t_. What doesn’t kill you…

He would laugh, if he could. It almost _did_ kill him, that night. If only a few things had went differently, zigged instead of zagged, he would be dead now. A few minutes more until the hospital and the surgery, if that bastard with the baseball cap hadn’t talked for so long and had finished it earlier, if Grass hadn’t come outside when he did, gun in hand…

If he hadn’t met them, Cali and her mother and the others. If he hadn’t, he would have gone through with it. Killed Grass, _purged_. What then? What would he have done next? The idea of revenge, retaliation, had given him purpose in a life that was nothing but emptiness. An apartment without pictures on the wall, a closet full of weapons but no food in his fridge except takeout. Books collecting dust, evenings spent staring at the TV because this way at least there would be noise other than the lonely sounds of an empty apartment… What would he have done, after retaliation? Start… living?

He scoffs and turns to his side, slowly and carefully, don’t put pressure on your wounds. No, he wouldn’t have started _living_ again. The idea of getting his hands on Grass had been the only thing giving his life any purpose, without that he would have given up long ago. And now?

Now there’s Cali who comes to visit him every day. Chats away at him and doesn’t mind that he can’t talk around the tube in his throat. Smiles at him, bright like the sun, and slowly fills the empty space inside him, melts the heart that he thought had turned to stone long ago. The place in his heart, the one where his son lives on, is still painful, nothing but sharp edges and piercing spines, but Cali soothes it.

 

***

 

He’s getting a lot more visitors than he would ever have expected. He’s not quite lucid most of the time, they’re giving him some serious painkillers, so at first he thinks he’s imagining things.

His ex-wife appearing, that’s sort of expected. She probably feels obligated… or still holds a certain affection for him. He doesn’t ask, he’s barely awake. But her hand on his brow feels soothing, reminds him of days when they were… happy, and the way she says his name with a sigh sounds affectionate rather than pitying. It’s nice that she’s here, he thinks, and feels a little lonely when she’ gone. Back to her new family while he’s lying here, broken.

A stranger is next, the wild-eyed African American they met on the… hunting grounds, the one who’d said he’d take care of Liz. He doesn’t stay long, just tells him that Liz is safe and ‘be well, my friend’ – then he’s gone again, as if he’d never been there. He sleeps a little easier after that visit.

His son appears – no. That one he was dreaming. Oh, how he wishes it was more than a dream…

That Grass shows up is a surprise. What is he doing here? Grass stands there, looking down at where he’s lying, bandages and tubes and IVs everywhere, and tells him he’ll cover the costs for his stay at the hospital. What? Why? Days ago he was trying to _kill_ Grass, thinking only of seeing the light die in his eyes while his blood soaked the carpet, and now this? Grass wants to _help_ him? Why?! He thought Grass wanted him dead, echoing his own desperate, pain-filled wish. Why else would Grass have come from the house with a gun in his hand, if not to get rid of him once and for all, right before the Purge ended? Or maybe… maybe he got that wrong? Maybe it wasn’t like that? Maybe Grass saw what happened and wanted to… help? He wants to ask Grass but he can’t – the tube is still in his throat and he can’t speak. Grass doesn’t explain, just puts an awfully cheerful bouquet of flowers on his nightstand and leaves with a smile that is parts awkward and guilty. Oh. That guilt probably explains it, at least some of it…

And Cali shows up, day after day after she’s finished with school. Tells him about her favorite subjects (used to be biology, nowadays modern history) and her least favorite (math). Talks about how they’re thinking of moving to a new place since they don’t feel comfortable in their old apartment and they recently got some money (she doesn’t say where it came from, but her eyes tell him it’s a story he’s better off not knowing) and that he needs to get better soon, they need someone to carry the heavy boxes. Sometimes her mother is with her, watching Cali with an indulgent smile, but usually she’s alone. Cali smiles and pokes fun at him, varying between sad frowns, cheerful, teasing eyes that twinkle at him and just… sitting there, watching him like she wants to learn him inside out. It feels less uncomfortable than he thought it would, he’s neither used to this sort of scrutiny (he usually doesn’t like… well, people) nor does he like it (he has secrets, dark ones, ones no normal person should ever come in contact with). But with Cali it feels different. Welcome, almost. Soothing. She’s soon the highlight of his dazed, painful days.

He’s looking forward to the day they’ll take the tube out and he can talk to her.

 

***

 

The doctors won’t let him go back to his empty apartment, say he’ll need help dealing with the everyday things while his body finishes healing. They ask if he’s got a family member who can take care of him. He thinks of his ex-wife and says no. The doctors suggest a day nurse and he waves them off – he doesn’t want a stranger in his apartment, a face he neither knows nor trusts in the cave with the wounded animal he feels like. He’ll manage, he always has. He’s been through worse.

Cali overhears and immediately says he can move in with her and her Mom while he’s recuperating. Eva doesn’t say anything for a few seconds while Cali looks at her with a giant smile on her face, excitement shining from every pore. He doesn’t say anything either, not trying to let himself think how this might be… nice. Not that he’s eager to accept help – or even admit that he might need it – but Cali is… a warm ray of sunshine in his bleak life. Yeah, this might be nice.

Eva finally agrees, but her smile is a little slow to appear. He tries not to wonder what that means. Cali, however, is beaming and that makes up for everything. He can even tell himself he’ll do it for her, to make her happy, not because he might need help with his chest all fucked up or because he might feel lonely in his dark, empty apartment that is a place to live but has never been a home.

Cali smiles and he smiles back. He thinks he’d do anything for that smile.

 

***

 

It takes a while for them to adapt to each other, with him being used to living alone and them suddenly sharing their home with someone who is little more than a stranger. The first few nights he lies awake, listening to the unfamiliar sounds the apartment makes in the dark, hyper-aware of being in a place he doesn’t know, with people he doesn’t know, unfamiliar surroundings that spike his sense of danger. It’s not as bad during the day when it’s bright and cheerful, this place with random knickknacks and rugs, pictures on the wall and all these reminders of life and joy and family. They’re soothing.

He keeps to himself for a while like a suspicious cat, lingering in the shadows of his room. It used to be someone else’s room, there are things all over telling of the presence of another. Looking at the pictures that show Cali, Eva and a sad-eyed, world-weary old man he’s pretty sure he knows who the room belonged to, even if neither Cali nor her mother ever mention him. The old man (Eva’s Dad?) apparently left only a short while ago and… he’s pretty sure he knows when that was.

He feels like a stranger here, an intruder, taking over a room that was someone else’s, as if he’s inserting himself into a space that was not meant for him. But Cali draws him out, pestering him constantly, day in and day out (doesn’t she have to go to school? He’s lost track of school holidays after… after it became unnecessary to keep up), talking and poking at him, no matter how he grumbles or tries to ignore her, she ignores it right back and keeps prodding at him until he gives up and lets himself be engaged in conversation. He doesn’t mind, really, she’s fun to talk to, with a witty humor and smart mouth, not yet bent and broken by the pains of life like he has been.

He gets used to it. He can’t do much with his wounds still healing, so he rarely ventures outside, instead stays in, reads – he hasn’t simply sat down and read a book, cover to cover, in _years_ – talks with Cali, smiles at her jokes and teases her back when he feels comfortable enough to do so. He notices they don’t have anything but wooden planks to board up the windows and door during _that night_ (door has been kicked in, not enough protection, anyone can get in and get them, need to keep them safe) and places an order for some more serious protection. He doesn’t let Eva pay for that. She doesn’t like it, but accepts – she’s a practical woman – just like she accepts it when he gives her money for groceries. He’s dependent on them, can neither bend over to tie his own shoes nor take a shower without help, he’s dependent on them and he doesn’t like it. Giving them money helps a little, feels like he’s doing something for them in return.

He tries to thank them, awkward and fumbling, Eva shrugs and Cali tells him to shut up. He has to smile.

 

***

 

He gets better. There are some weights hidden away in a dusty cabin, so he uses them to start getting back into shape. There are some nice tracks in the area for jogging and getting familiar with the neighborhood is always a good idea. The faucet in the kitchen is leaking and he shows Eva how to fix it, so she can do it herself the next time it happens. He starts watching Carmelo Jones’ videos with Cali, mulling things over in his mind, trying to reconcile what he thought he knew about the government with what he sees in those vids and what he saw during that night. Eva doesn’t want to talk about it, but Cali is a well of information and opinions, much smarter and more world-wise than her years would suggest.

Cali tells him about her Granddad and he hesitantly puts an arm around her shoulder while she tries so hard not to cry. He doesn’t know what to do, he never could deal with a woman crying, and especially not one so young. He has no idea how to comfort, he’s all rough edges and sharp pain, he’s not… comforting. He doesn’t know how to do this, how to… except maybe…

He tells her about his son, about the day he was born and the day he was taken from him and all the days in between. It helps Cali, she stops rubbing her eyes and listens without a sound, somber but interested. His own eyes are wet after he’s finished talking and he thinks it might have helped him as well.

 

***

 

His wounds are healed but he doesn’t leave. He brings it up once but Cali shouts him down, tells him he has to stay, where else would he go? Back to his empty apartment? Why do that, when he can stay here, when they _want_ him here?

He stays, touched by the young woman’s determination to not let him go, to keep him close. She likes him, she really does. Sees beyond his gruff exterior and his discouraging silences. Only he’s not as gruff as he used to be and he’s talked more in a week than he before did in a month – Cali has drawn him from his shell and he finds he likes it. Smiles come easier nowadays… and he barely had a nightmare in weeks. Maybe he needed this more than he thought: people around, friendly faces. Someone to talk to except his TV, someone to look at who isn’t already dead. Friends. People who like him and whom he likes back.

Cali hugs him when he agrees to stay and he carefully hugs her back, breathing in the scent of her hair.

 

***

 

Cali wants to learn how to fight.

He doesn’t want to teach her at first. This girl is a bright, gentle soul, he doesn’t want to tarnish that with violence, make her like him, even just the slightest bit. She doesn’t belong with brutality and pain, she needs to stay far away from that. But then he thinks it over: Cali has already seen violence, a lot more than is appropriate for a civilian, she’s seen blood and pain and death up close. She stayed strong throughout it, a steel core hidden behind her amicable face, a definite readiness to deal with whatever life throws at her. And who is to say she’ll never meet violence again? The next Purge is little more than nine months away, what if…? Or the one after that, or one in a few years? He can’t keep her safe forever, no matter how much he wants to. So maybe it _is_ time to teach her, so she can protect herself.

Eva doesn’t want to learn, but Cali is a quick study. They push the furniture against the wall to have space to move in and he shows her how to subdue an attacker in three easy steps. How to curl her fingers to give her punch more power, where to kick to render a person’s leg useless. Where to hit, the solar plexus, certain nerve bundles to make an arm go numb, a few dirty tricks added to the mix. If it’s a man, go for the balls, obviously, no finesse needed there. Do anything to get someone down and do it quick, so you have time to get away. He doesn’t show her how to kill, he’s adamant to keep that far away from her, but he shows her how to incapacitate people so she can protect herself.

He’s not a gentle teacher, many corrections and little praise, working her hard until she performs to his high standards. He won’t coddle her, if they’re doing this, they’re doing it _right_. Sometimes Cali smiles when she masters a new move, other times she doesn’t. Her eyes are dark then, dark and determined. She doesn’t like fighting but she thinks it’s necessary and she’s prepared to do it. He likes that, is proud of her, she’s doing great.

Eva watches them when they train, disapproval and something like fear in her eyes. He’s afraid he knows what that is about, but he tries to let himself get distracted by Cali’s exuberant laugh when she manages to throw him on his ass for the first time. It works to a certain point, he’s laughing as well when she helps him back up.

But Eva is still watching them, frowning to herself and a dark shadow seeps into his heart. He knows what’s coming.

 

***

 

It happens a few days later: while Cali is out with friends Eva corners him and they talk. Well, Eva talks, arms crossed, uncomfortable determination and desperation radiating from her body, and he listens with a sinking heart. When she’s done he nods and looks at the floor.

Eva doesn’t want him here, never really was comfortable with taking him in. Where Cali sees her hero, her savior, the man who kept her alive during that night, Eva sees only the reminder of the awful things she had to go through. Cali worships him, Eva says, and she’s as grateful for what he did as her daughter is, but the mother sees something her daughter doesn’t. Eva knows he is dangerous, he’s killed, he’s the personified reminder that the world is a horrible, dangerous place where bad things happen to innocent people.

Eva wants to keep her daughter safe, even from him. Maybe _especially_ from him, people like him. What if he accidentally hurts her during training? What if he wakes up from one of his nightmares and doesn’t recognize her? One time he punched a hole into the wall when he woke up and was convinced he was being attacked, what if next time it’s Cali instead of the wall? And what if those people who tried to kill him come after him again, what then?!

He understands that, does he ever. Eva’s main concern, _only_ concern is her daughter, Cali’s safety and well-being. His concern, his new-found purpose in his life is the same thing: protect Cali from any danger. And if that danger is him, if there’s even the _slightest_ chance that it could be him…

He nods and starts packing his bag.

 

***

 

His apartment, when he gets back, smells dusty. He puts his bag on his bed and looks around. It looks… empty. Colorless. Lonely.

He sits on the bed and rubs his eyes. Stays there for more than an hour, just sitting and staring at the wall. The apartment isn’t the only thing that feels empty: there’s a space in his heart that is empty as well. He looks at the picture of his son, then reaches inside his jacket to pull out a second picture. He took it from Eva’s place without asking, but he can’t bring himself to feel guilty about it.

It fits nicely on the nightstand, next to his son’s picture. One frame with a man and his boy, the other with a happy family of three, daughter, mother, grandfather. The three of them fill the frame until there’s no space left. Especially not for an old, broken man like he is.

He breathes in, out, in, out – it’s the only sounds audible in this apartment. In Eva’s place there was laughter and talking, but here there’s only silence and his slow breathing.

 

***

 

Cali calls him on his cellphone. He tries to explain, voice soft and hesitant, but she doesn’t listen. She’s confused, angry, disappointed. She hangs up while he’s still trying to fumble his way through telling her how much he cares about her.

She hangs up; he sits there, listening to the endless beep of the connection being cut.

He waits for her to call again. Days pass, Cali doesn’t call.

Eventually he stops waiting. She’ll be fine, she’s strong, she can take care of herself, she’ll get over it. And he?

He’ll have to learn how to deal. Cali’s safe, that’s all that matters.

She’s safe.

 

**THE END**

**Author's Note:**

> SO MANY FEELS. Most of them sad and angsty... I AM NOT SORRY THOUGH


End file.
